“Duffham! you—you—— Surely it is not that child!”
“Yes, it is.”
He backed to a chair and stumbled into it, rather than sat down; somewhat in the same manner that Mrs. Layne had backed against the counter nearly seven years before and upset the scales. The old lady seemed to have aged since quicker than she ought to have done: but her face then had not been whiter than was Geoffry Chavasse’s now.
“Good Heavens!”
The dead silence was only broken by these murmured words that fell from his lips. Mr. Duffham finished folding his note, and directed it.
“Sir Geoffry, I beg your pardon! I beg it a thousand times. If I had had the smallest notion that you were ignorant of this, I should never have spoken.”
Sir Geoffry took out his handkerchief and wiped his brow. Some moisture had gathered there.
“How was I to suspect it?” he asked.
“I never supposed but that you must have known it all along.”